Farley stopped and whirled, pinned by spotlights. Then the overheads came on and he saw the uniforms and grim faces of Security, followed by Captain Blagonov and Piatella.
“Arrest him, Captain! You saw that. Misuse of property, improper flick technique—we could all have been swept into space!”
The pattern of red lights indicated a hard-way transmission; to Piatella, that meant into space.
The Security men closed on Farley: two of the techs, Hong and Bieberman, looking uncomfortable in brown Security tunics over their blue coveralls.
“Grab him!” Piatella yelled.
“If you please, Mr. Piatella,” said the Captain.
“Hi, Jack—Don.” Farley smiled awkwardly, holding his hands shoulder-high. “Sorry to cost you sleep.”
Jack’s Asian features quirked. “Forget it. I still am asleep.”
“Mr. Huang,
